


we map the constellations in the night sky (and you, North Star, guide me home)

by caesurae



Series: moments in time [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: A PUPPY!!!, F/F, Pharmercy, THERE'S A PUPPY IN THIS FIC NOW, a hint of zarya/mei and hanzo/jesse, d.va in this fic is inspired by gremlin d.va from tumblr, important, to be expanded on in following chapters
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-11
Updated: 2016-07-05
Packaged: 2018-07-14 10:10:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7166942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/caesurae/pseuds/caesurae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>They are agents of Overwatch. They dedicate themselves to restoring order and balance in a torn and fragile world.</p><p>And somewhere along the way, Fareeha and Angela have fallen for each other.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I

**Author's Note:**

> This pairing will ruin me.
> 
> This was originally going to be a oneshot but now it will have three chapters! The first chapter was only supposed to be about a thousand words, too, but I just kept writing and writing and writing and so on. Also, notice the rating change? Things are HAPPENING (certainly in the second chapter, at least!)
> 
> Please let me know what you all think, and thank you all so much for your lovely comments on 'it's late and sleep eludes us'. Love you! <3

.

The days pass by and life on base continues in its normal fashion, for the most part. Angela and Fareeha, kept busy by their duties and training, manage to find a handful of moments where they can escape to somewhere private and kiss. On the sixth day from their _real_ first kiss – Fareeha argues that a kiss on the cheek does not count as a _real_ first kiss, and usually presses the point till Angela rolls her eyes and kisses her on the lips – Angela pulls Fareeha into her bedroom and pushes her against the door.

“I just came back from the gym,” Fareeha warns with a smile. She is a perfect sight in her form-fitting training clothes. “I need a shower.”

Angela grimaces. “I’m supposed to be spending the next four hours with Winston and Torbjorn designing upgrades for our suits. I don’t have any free time tonight.”

Fareeha sighs gently, trailing her hands up Angela’s sides to rest upon her waist. “And to think that I was going to bring you a bottle of whiskey after my shower and woo you.”

“Whiskey!” exclaims Angela. “And _woo_ me?”

“Yes. But now you are going to spend the evening working, and I need a shower.” Fareeha kisses Angela’s brow.

“I can meet you after I am finished…”

“No,” Fareeha says sternly. “You need your sleep.”

Angela leans forward and laughs into Fareeha’s neck. “We’ll find time,” she murmurs. “Besides, we do not have to _do_ anything. I can just sleep in your bed.” She finds the thought of sneaking into Fareeha’s room in the late hours of the night to be rather charming.

“Now that is an idea,” Fareeha muses. “As long as you are sure?”

“I am.” Angela tilts her head up to look at Fareeha. “I have all of tomorrow afternoon free, if nothing else comes up.”

“Afternoon _and_ night? I might swap my patrol with Genji, he owes me a favour. Then it would be just the two of us, and a bottle of fine whiskey, and—”

A siren splits the air. It is a call to arms, this siren – the agents of Overwatch are needed.

They draw apart. Fareeha looks as regretful as Angela feels.

“We will find time,” she echoes, bending to press a quick kiss to Angela’s lips – and the kiss, though brief, is so sweet that it makes Angela weak at the knees.

“We will. For now, let us go and see who needs us.”

.

A few minutes later, everyone is gathered in the hangar, all wearing their armour and equipped with their weapons. Hana has something that looks suspiciously like Dorito cheese powder on her cheek, and groans when Angela points it out.

Lucio laughs. “That’s what you get for shoving your entire head into a packet of Doritos.”

“I did _not_ do that.” Hana glowers at him and rubs her face. “Better?”

“All good,” Lucio reassures. “You look ready to stream.”

Hana says something about nerfing someone. Angela doesn’t quite catch it. Behind her, Jesse and Hanzo are talking. Or rather, Jesse is flirting, and Hanzo has absolutely no idea.

 _Was I like that when Fareeha flirted with me? No, I suspected, at least._ Hanzo, with a touch of annoyance, says, “You say the oddest things, gunslinger.”

Jack stands on a crate and clears his throat. Everyone falls silent, even Lena.

There are two situations that require their attention, Jack tells them. There is an anti-Omnic terrorist cell that is plotting an attack in London. Jack is leading a small group of Overwatch agents to hunt them down and foil the attack. He will take Hanzo, Satya, Reinhardt, Lucio, Lena, and Torbjorn.

There is also a large group of bandits causing a problem in America, near the familiar battleground of Route 66. Winston will lead another small group to deal with these bandits, and Angela is to be his second in command. Not that it means a great deal in such small groups, but Jack likes to have something of a chain of command.

“Figures,” mutters Jesse, but his eyes are dancing when he looks at Angela.

Jack gives a half-shrug. “Next time you can be second, McCree.”

“Thanks, boss. Really appreciate it.”

Accompanying Winston and Angela are Jesse, Fareeha, Hana, Zarya, and Genji. _A good group_ , Angela thinks.

The other agents who are not needed will stay behind on base. Those who are leaving grab their kit bags – filled with clothes, supplies, and items that they need – get onto one of the two airships. Winston is to pilot theirs, and he ushers them on-board cheerfully enough.

 Soon they are up in the sky and flying towards their destination. The constant low _hum_ of the engines is accompanied by quiet conversation. Angela chats to Winston, while Zarya sits next to Fareeha. 

“Didn’t get your shower?” the Russian asks loudly.

“No.”

“I didn’t either. Reinhardt wanted to talk heavy weapons. And then I saw her, walking towards us, so beautiful and wondrous.” Zarya sighs dreamily. “Mei.”

Everyone looks at them, then. Zarya’s affection for Mei is hardly unknown around the base.

Fareeha, however, stares at Zarya and blinks once. “Mei – you like Mei?”

“What do you mean, ‘I like Mei’? Everyone knows I like Mei! Well, most people.”

“It’s true,” Hana laughs. “Mei hasn’t realised yet.”

“She is too focused upon her research,” Zarya says fondly. “Ah, what a woman she is!”

“I did not know,” says Fareeha.

Zarya chuckles, her broad shoulders shaking. “Where have you _been_ , Amari? Living under a rock?”

“My mind has been…otherwise occupied.” Fareeha’s eyes dart up to meet Angela’s, and the smile they share is soft and sweet.

No one else notices, as Zarya has begun to describe in detail how brilliant Mei is. It is quite charming, really.

Half an hour later, Hana corners Angela when the doctor goes to get a medical journal from her kit bag.

“Hana? Are you alright?” Angela asks, straightening up. Hana looks equal parts guilty and cheerful. A troubling mix of expressions.

“I’m fine. I just wanted to tell you something, doc,” Hana whispers. She grins up at Angela, her eyes bright and knowing. “I saw you two kissing in the gym storeroom the other day. You and Fareeha.”

Angela freezes, medical journal in one hand. Making an effort to keep her voice low, she responds with, “You – what? How? It was midnight!”

“I couldn’t sleep. Too much caffeine and sugar in my bloodstream. So I went to the gym to run a few miles on the treadmill, but I saw you and Amari in the storeroom. Don’t worry! I didn’t stream the kiss or anything, but I _did_ see it. Then I left the gym and ran laps around the hangar.” Hana’s grin broadens. “You two make a good couple.”

The kiss in the gym storeroom is something that Angela remembers vividly. Shaking her head, she mutters, “but we were so careful….”

And they _had_ been careful. At least, Angela had made an attempt, but Fareeha had been very distracting and persuasive.

She was very good at that. Being distracting. And persuasive.

“Please, doc, the storeroom door was open and the lights were on. That’s the exact _opposite_ of careful. Anyway, I’m not going to tell anyone.” Hana pats Angela on the shoulder. “Don’t stress. I have one condition, though.”

Angela sighs. “For what? Your silence?” _We are going to have to make this public at some point, I suppose. People should know._

But that is for Fareeha and her to discuss later. In _private_. If they ever manage to find a private moment, that is.

“Yeah! You know how Jack won’t let any of us off-base by ourselves unless we’re on a solo mission, _safety first_ and all that – well, I want food. _Fast food_. Pizza, fries, coke. I know we’re agents and we have to eat healthily, but we’ve only had pizza _three times_ since I joined Overwatch.” She sighs and shakes her head, as though this is a great tragedy. Then, her eyes brightening again, Hana declares, “I want you to take me out to dinner and buy me food.”

Angela pinches the bridge of her nose. “You know I am a doctor, yes?”

“Yeah, well, if I choke from eating too much pizza then you can revive me.” Hana shrugs.

“Alright,” Angela says eventually. “I will take you out to dinner and buy you food.”

Hana gives a triumphant grin. “Thanks, doc. So sweet of you to offer.” Then the grin softens, and Hana adds earnestly, “Really, though? You and Amari? It’s a good match, I think. You two match each other.”

Then she saunters off, humming under her breath.

Angela sighs again. A few moments pass where she is lost deep in thought – thank goodness it had only been _Hana_ , what if Jack had seen them? She is glad that their commander did not see them in the storage room of the gym, where Fareeha had lifted Angela easily and pressed her against the wall, Angela wrapping her legs around Fareeha’s waist and…

“ _Mein gott_!” she mutters, pinching the bridge of her nose once more.

A familiar voice gently asks, “Are you alright?” It is Fareeha, and she has come to join Angela down the back of the airship. 

Angela pulls her behind Hana’s mech, where they might have some measure of privacy. “Hana knows,” she says quickly.

Fareeha leans against the mech and raises an eyebrow. “Knows what?”

“She saw us kissing.”

Those dark eyes widen a little. “Where? In the kitchen, or the armoury, or the med-bay?”

“Gym storeroom.”

Fareeha looks over at where Hana is sitting. The mech pilot gives them an innocent wave and mouths _dinner_ quite cheerfully.

“Dinner?” asks Fareeha, keeping her voice low. “What does she mean by that? We don’t kiss at dinner. Unless she saw my hand on your leg under the table….”

“The price for her silence,” Angela informs Fareeha, “is food. That is what she means by dinner.”

Fareeha smiles wryly. “Ah. Of course it is.” She gives Angela a concerned look. “How are you feeling about this?”

“I am glad it was her that saw us, not Jack. I _wish_ she had not seen us, though.”

“You aren’t angry?”

“Not at all. A bit embarrassed, perhaps, but certainly not angry. What about you?”

“I feel the same, I suppose. I would never have expected _Hana_ to go to the gym at midnight, though. Usually she is playing that game. Starcraft.” Fareeha pauses. “I suppose we will have to be more careful, in future,” she finishes thoughtfully.

“Careful?” Angela raises an eyebrow. “If I do not get the chance to kiss you senseless soon, I am going to _combust_.”

A beat.

“I feel the same.” Fareeha reaches out and brushes one hand against Angela’s, dark gaze sweeping over Angela’s body. “For now,” she says, a touch quieter, with a playful hint to her tones, “I suppose I will have to make do with my daydreams of you.”

Angela breathes in sharply. “Daydreams? What – what exactly do you think about?”

“All manner of things,” says Fareeha, and winks. “Do with that what you will, Doctor Ziegler.”

Then she returns to her seat, tips her head back and closes her eyes, lips curved up on one side.

“Impossible woman,” Angela mutters, but she’s smiling.

.

In America, the bandits have made a stronghold out of an old motel. It’s thirty miles from the Route 66 battleground, located on a desolate stretch of highway. The bandits are easily dispatched of; the Overwatch agents only receive a few minor injuries – for which, Angela is very grateful – and they make a detailed search of the motel. Several crates of explosives are found, as well as a decent stockpile of weapons and ammunition. All of it is seized, and the team opts to spend the night at a nearby abandoned ranch house, before patrolling the area come morning.

The house is in surprisingly good condition. Fareeha and Jesse set up a perimeter alert and defence system, Winston and Angela give the airship a decent check-over before activating the camouflage system, and Hana and Genji clean up inside of the house. Zarya investigates the barn and declares it is safe. Then all of them gather in the living room of the house.

“We’ll keep a watch tonight, despite the perimeter alarm,” Winston tells them. “It never hurts to be too safe, after all. Bring some food out when you’ve finished making it.” He leans close to Angela and Genji, and says lowly, “Do _not_ let Hana make dinner. Carbonated drinks do not belong in stews.”

“A good thing I do not need to eat, then,” muses Genji. “Alright. I will bring you some food out, and then join you on watch.”

Winston salutes and heads outside. Zarya volunteers to make dinner, and busies herself with preparing the ingredients while Jesse readies the portable stove.

“So,” Genji says, as Jesse tests the hotplates for warmth, “you are curious about my brother, yes?”

Jesse’s hand stills on the hotplate and he curses, having evidently been burned. “Damnation! Curious about Hanzo?” He examines his hand and scoffs. “I don’t care ‘bout him.”

“Hmm.” Genji considers him. “If you say so.”

“Why would I care about your _ass_ of a brother?”

“He is an ass,” Genji agrees. “He is trying to atone, though.”

Jesse doesn’t reply. But he seems to ponder this, remaining quiet through dinner.

Angela, sitting next to Fareeha, watches and wonders.

.

Angela joins Jesse on watch, later. The two of them make irregular circuits of the ranch and outbuildings, keeping their eyes and ears peeled for anything strange. They see nothing in the darkness, and only hear coyotes in the far distance.

“Can I ask you somethin’?” ventures Jesse eventually.

“Of course you can.”

He gives her a sidelong look. “You and Fareeha – that’s finally happenin’, right?”

Angela, quite taken by surprise, says nothing for a long moment. “Yes,” she admits eventually. “Yes. We are…well, something is happening.”

It’s…odd, telling Jesse. Nice. She has known him for a while, and the two of them are good friends. Vastly different people, but good friends all the same.

And so she does not feel any stress in telling him. After all, he had _asked_.

Jesse nods. “‘Bout time, really.”

“You think?” she asks, somewhat relieved by his easy-going reaction.

“Mhmm. I saw the way you looked at her; how she flirted with you, and you’d go all red and stammer. I remember hearin’ her complement your _form_ in the gym.”

“You heard that?”

“Sure did. Saw you two on the ship, too. Real subtle.”

“Oh my gosh….”

Jesse continues. “She’s less serious around you, you know? She’s still fitting into Overwatch, but around you she’s a bit…more relaxed, I guess. It’s nice to see.”

Angela’s lips twitch. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

“I like her a lot,” she admits. “More than I expected I would.”

“That’s good to hear. You deserve to be happy, and if she makes you happy? Then that’s all that matters, and I’m glad for you.”

She reaches out and squeezes his shoulder. “Thank you, Jesse. Thank you.”

“No problem, doc.” He ruffles a hand through her ponytail, and huffs with laughter when she swats his hand away and fixes her hair.

There’s a long moment of silence between them, after that. Angela breaks it with a question.

“What Genji said before, about Hanzo…?”

Jesse looks up at the sky and all the stars it holds. “Yeah. He’s right, I guess. I _am_ curious about his brother.”

“You called him – what was it? An _ass_?”

“Well, it’s true. Not that I can talk. I’ve done things I regret.” Jesse shrugs. “Hanzo is…interesting. Not sure if that means I actually _like_ him, though.” He scoffs. “Can’t get him off my damned mind.”

“Really?”

“Mhmm. You know, he mocked the way I make coffee a few days ago. Stood there smirkin’ at me and sayin’ I measured out the sugar and milk as precisely as I possibly could, like it was some kinda science. And he just kept on _talkin’_ , and all I could think about was how handsome he was.” Jesse shakes his head. “That man is impossible.”

Angela snorts. “I think the same thing about Fareeha, sometimes.”

.

Their watch ends, and Genji comes to relieve them. Angela and Jesse go inside and say goodnight, before heading to their respective rooms. Funnily enough, during his allocating of rooms to each person, Winston had asked Angela and Fareeha if they would mind sharing.

“Not at all,” Fareeha had said, oh-so-smoothly.

Fareeha, who took an earlier watch, is already asleep on the other side of the room when Angela sneaks in. She has even gone to the effort of making Angela’s bed – placing the thin mattress right next to hers, and spreading their blankets over both mattresses

Angela tiptoes across the room. Old floorboards creak beneath her feet, and Fareeha stirs and sits up.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Angela whispers.

Fareeha brushes her hair behind one ear and considers Angela. “Come to bed,” she says tiredly. “It’s cold.”

“Ah, I see. You only wanted a bedwarmer,” teases Angela.

Fareeha groans. “Just come to bed.”

Angela obliges, taking off her boots and crawling in under the blankets. She settles into a comfortable position at Fareeha’s side, drinking in the warmth of the other woman’s body, and whispers, “Sleep well.”

“I will now.”

She almost wants to make another teasing comment at such a response, but feels equally touched. And so she reaches out and catches Fareeha’s hand with hers, intertwining their fingers.

Then the weariness comes and weighs heavily upon Angela, and she falls into a deep sleep.

.

At some point between Angela falling asleep and waking up, Fareeha has turned onto her side and thrown an arm over Angela’s stomach, pressing her face into the blonde’s shoulder. She must realise that Angela is awake, as her arm tightens and she mutters something Angela doesn’t quite catch.

“Pardon?”

Fareeha yawns. A few moments later, she asks, “What time is it?”

Angela squints at the digital watch on her left hand, blinking till the bright numbers come into focus. “Five past five.”

Fareeha sighs into Angela’s shoulder. “We should get up.” Her voice is husky.

Angela raises a hand and runs her fingertips across Fareeha’s forearm. “We have time. We can stay here a while.”

“Mm. That would be nice.” Fareeha moves closer, tangling her legs with Angela’s. “Sleep well?”

“ _Very_ well.”

“I’m glad.”

They bask in each other’s presence and warmth for perhaps half an hour, Fareeha dozing off and shaking herself away several times. Outside their room, they hear the tell-tale sounds of the others waking up: Zarya humming cheerfully, Winston yawning and heading into the living room to make breakfast, footsteps making the old wooden floor creak and groan. The sun has not risen yet, but the soft grey pre-dawn light comes in through the lone window and allows Angela to make out Fareeha’s face in the gloom.

Angela squeezes her hand. “I have to tell you something.”

“Mhmm?”

“Jesse guessed that something was happening between us.”

Fareeha props herself up on one elbow and regards Angela sleepily. “We must be the most obvious people in the world.”

“I wonder the same thing.” Angela laughs quietly. “Anyway, he said that he is glad for us.”

“That is sweet of him,” Fareeha says, and leans down to kiss Angela’s brow. Her eyes move down to focus upon Angela’s lips, and she bites her own, before shifting down and –

– coming to a sudden stop.

Outside of their room, there are footsteps, and then two loud knocks on the door to their room. “It’s me,” comes Jesse’s voice.

Angela cannot resist. “Hello me,” she replies loudly, “I’m Angela.”

Fareeha groans. “ _Really_? That was a terrible joke.”

“It wasn’t so bad, surely….”

“It was bad,” Jesse affirms. “Are you both decent? I brought coffee.”

“Coffee!” Angela exclaims, sitting up quickly and getting out of bed. “Hold on a moment.” She crosses the room and opens the door, beaming at him in welcome. “Thank you for this.”

"No problem. Figured it was better if I came rather than Zarya. She's got a habit of bursting into rooms without knocking. Anyway, it's time to rise and shine, we’ve got a patrol to go on soon.” He hands Angela the cups of coffee and peers over her shoulder, noticing the two thin mattresses shoved together to make one bed. Fareeha comes to join Angela at the door, wordlessly taking a cup of coffee and raising it to her lips. Jesse’s lips twitch. “It's also time for the two of you to stop being so damn _cute_. It's near sickening.”

Fareeha rolls her eyes. Angela laughs.

And it feels _nice_. 

Comfortable. 

"I'm going to wake up hell on earth," Jesse tells them. By  _that_ , he means Hana. "See you at breakfast."

He heads down the hallway to the room next to theirs, and knocks loudly on that door.

Meanwhile, Angela turns to Fareeha and smiles. "Are you ready to start the day?"

Fareeha leans in and kisses her on the lips warmly; gently. She tastes like coffee, and she hums softly into Angela's mouth, before drawing away slowly.

"I am now," Fareeha says.


	2. II

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this update took so long! I've been working on some other things, and I rewrote this chapter like three times?  
> Also, a warning: this chapter has like, the longest sex scene I've ever written, so that's what you're in for if you read this! It's in the second half of this chapter.  
> Tell me what you think! <3

.

The patrol the next day is completed without spotting any enemies, and so they fly back to Watchpoint: Gibraltar. It is rare that missions are resolved so quickly and peacefully, and Angela finds herself a little on edge because of it: she has grown too used to injuries and blood and healing the others over the years, and has become accustomed to the impossible occurring with near alarming frequency.

Not that she isn’t thankful that everyone is uninjured. _That_ is a rare gift.

“I can hear you thinking,” Fareeha murmurs from Angela’s side. “Is everything alright?”

“Sometimes,” Angela replies, her tone equally as quiet, “the mission goes too smoothly, and you are left thinking….”

“If perhaps the worst is yet to come?” Fareeha raises a knowing eyebrow. “Back when I was in the army, we were running a routine patrol. Everything was fine. Got back to our base, and all hell broke loose.”

“Mm.” Angela’s knee is pressed into Fareeha’s thigh, their shoulders brushing together. “That’s it exactly. But I am glad that the mission went well.”

“As am I.”

They look at each other, then. Angela finds herself marvelling at Fareeha’s eyelashes, so long and thick; the shape of her cheekbones, the sharp and strong line of her jaw. She traces the lines of the udjat with her eyes, and wants nothing more to reach out and trace it with her fingertips – somehow, she has not done that yet – but they are on the airship, and there is no privacy.

“ _Rayie_ ,” whispers Fareeha. There’s a near reverence to her tones that makes Angela’s heart skip a beat.

“Pardon?” asks Angela, blinking.

Fareeha’s cheeks darken. “I will tell you later,” she mutters, sounding a little awkward.

Angela wonders what she said. _Why is she acting like that?_

Meanwhile, across the airship, Zarya is stretching loudly. “Glad to be out of the heat!” she says cheerfully. Zarya has a light degree of sunburn on her face and shoulders, which irks Angela to no end – three times she had told Zarya to put some sunscreen on, and three times the Russian agent had nodded her head and said, “Yes, Doctor Ziegler.”

“Ah,” Genji says, “it is not the sort of temperature you are used to, is it?”

Zarya scowls at him. It is a good natured scowl – her attitude towards _certain_ omnics and cyborgs has improved since joining Overwatch. Before she had joined, Jack and Angela had spoken to her about that, among other things. Firmly, Jack had told her that there was no place for prejudice among the ranks of Overwatch. “We understand your past, and we know what has happened in Russia – and across the world – but if you are to be an agent of Overwatch, you must set old grudges aside. We fight for global peace,” he had said. “Agents among our ranks are cyborgs and omnics. Agents among our ranks have overcome their prejudices. You will have to as well.”

And Zarya had made the effort. For the first few days, she had been exceedingly cautious around Genji and Tekhartha. Then, at the end of the first week, she had asked Tekhartha what he had to teach about meditation.

“I am Russian,” Zarya announces now. “I am meant for the _winter_. Not this,” she scoffs, “not this _heat_.”

“And to think I barely feel it,” Genji says, sounding a touch amused.

Zarya laughs. Jesse shakes his head. “Feels like home to me. How ‘bout you, Fareeha?”

Smirking, Fareeha tells them, “It is nothing.” Her blush has subsided by now.

Angela still wonders what she said. _A term of endearment? Or was it something else?_

Zarya groans. Hana, playing some sort of handheld device, looks disgusted with them all.

“You’re right,” Jesse agrees. “What do you think, Winston?”

“Oh, I think you all talk about the weather much,” Winston says from the pilot’s seat – modified especially for him. “And people say _I’m_ socially awkward. Ha.”

.

Mei and Satya greet them upon their return to Gibraltar.

“Your face is nearly the same colour as your hair,” Mei comments cheerfully when she sees Zarya coming out of the airship. Angela, carrying her kit bag and backpack, hides a smile and places her belongings on the hangar floor.

Zarya flushes. “Is not.”

Mei bounces over and stands on her tiptoes before Zarya, reaching up to brush her fingers over Zarya’s cheek. “Yes, it really is. And so _warm_.”

“Um,” Zarya says. “It was hot.”

“I’ll bet,” Mei murmurs, and then _winks_. Zarya splutters. There’s a snort from nearby. Genji.

“Jack and the others will be returning in three hours,” Satya informs Angela and Winston. She looks at Angela, and adds, “He said that Lucio and Reinhardt both took minor injuries.”

“I will see them both when I return, then.” Angela notes that down on her tablet. “Have fun while we were away?”

“I drank some wine, and listened to that record you recommended – it really was very pleasant, as you had said.” Angela nods, quite pleased by this. “Mei bought a dog. I thought you should know.”

“A dog,” mutters Winston, rubbing a hand over his face. “A dog?”

“A dog!” Angela exclaims. “Mei, what kind of dog?”

Mei, who has finished unknowingly torturing Zarya, grins at them. “I don’t know! He is a fluffy little puppy. Some kind of mutt.”

“He tried to chew up one of my books,” Satya notes aloud. “But he _is_ cute. I can’t be angry with him when he is so cute.”

“He has power.” Mei nods gravely. “Much power.”

A _puppy_! This is a delightful thing. _The base could do with a puppy_.

“Where is it?” demands Jesse, looking around. “I have to see. Where is he?”

Hana charges past them, a delighted shout falling from her lips. “ _Puppy_!”

“There he is, if Hana has not given him a heart attack and killed the poor thing.” Satya points, and Angela turns, and there the puppy is: a fluffy grey and brown thing with a white chest and white feet, delighted in the attention Hana is now lavishing upon it. Angela trots over to introduce herself to the pup, the others following behind.

“He’s gonna be a fine killer of a beast,” Jesse declares, reaching out to pat the pup.

Winston groans. Mei, however, is delighted by this. “Do you think? I had a feeling he would be most fearsome!”

Angela coos at the pup. “A fearsome darling, yes you are!”

Fareeha kneels beside her and allows the pup to sniff at her hands. “Looks like there is a bit of German Shepherd in him. And perhaps some husky. Far too early to be sure, though.”

“If so, then he will be _big_.” Mei turns to Zarya. “Do you like him?”

“Yes,” Zarya murmurs, looking very dazed. “Very good. Cute.”

 _At least I can speak more than three words at a time when Fareeha looks at me_ , Angela muses.

“What will Jack say?” Mei asks them. “I have been hoping he will say yes!”

Winston shrugs. “He loves dogs.” And the pup bounces over to him, eager and cheerful. Winston chuckles when it noses at his hands, and pats it gently.

“He does,” Angela agrees. “If he starts looking stubborn, just pass him the puppy. Place it in his arms. Then walk away. No more arguing after that.”

“Really?”

“Oh, sure. Now, he’ll spoil the pup,” Jesse says, “but I think we all will.”

“What are you going to call him?” asks Genji.

Mei laughs. “I don’t know. I will think of something soon, hopefully.” She looks at the pup and smiles. “But it will be a good name. And he will be very loved.”

.

After that, they disperse to go and shower and catch what rest they can. Angela pulls Fareeha aside in the hangar, and whispers, “It’s three hours till the others get back.”

Fareeha frowns. “I heard – _oh_.” She nods in understanding, lips twitching. “Will we, ah, rendezvous?”

Angela bites her lip. “Say that again?”

“Rendezvous?”

“Mmm. Your accent makes it sound…sinful.”

“Good.” Fareeha smirks down at her. “I will come to your room in thirty minutes. Go and shower.”

“Twenty. I shower quickly. Except when I have company….”

Fareeha bites her lip. “The things you say, Doctor Ziegler, _honestly_. I will see you in twenty minutes, then.”

Angela laughs and heads to her room.

On the way, she ponders that they have not slept together yet. It is a fact Angela is startlingly aware of. It _has_ only been a week since their first kiss, and between training and missions and other assorted duties they’ve barely found the time to kiss, let alone do anything more. Typically, she would think she would be more…reserved about such a thing, but this is _Fareeha_ , and the attraction between them….

Angela _wants_ more. And she knows Fareeha wants more, it is as clear as day: she can see it in her eyes, hear it in the hitch of her breath when they kiss, feel it in the way Fareeha’s fingers and hands move over her when they kiss. And she can feel it in a way that is not physical: it is the connection between them, a sort of current, an _attraction_. It is there when their fingers brush, and then it is as sweet and gentle as a fine summer day. It is there when they kiss and part for breath and Fareeha’s eyes are dark and her lips are swollen, and then it is like a storm, all raging electricity and thrumming energy.

She wonders if perhaps they might make it to that stage now. Twice they’ve almost been there before: once in Fareeha’s room, ‘til Reinhardt had knocked at the door and told Fareeha that everyone was needed in the gym for a dodgeball session (Angela had made vague excuses when Reinhardt had later asked why he had been unable to find her) and then again in the gym storeroom late one night, until they had been interrupted by the watchpoint’s security alarms going off (Jesse and Torbjorn had tripped them by accident when sneaking back into base after a night out in a local village). She wonders if three hours is long enough – but then again, as starved for time as they have been recently, it seems like an eternity.

She gets to her room and pulls out some clean clothes – she is _not_ going to answer the door naked, certainly not in a watchpoint filled with people who unknowingly interrupt each other all the time – and then heads into her ensuite. She showers quickly, dries her hair and dresses in record time, and is just turning off the hairdryer when she hears a knock at the door.

Angela throws her old clothes into the hamper, shuts the ensuite door, and then opens the main door. On the other side stands Fareeha, the tips of her hair still damp, smelling of spiced soap and shampoo.

Smiling, she pulls Fareeha into her room and closes the door. “We’re alone,” Angela sighs, turning to face Fareeha. “At last.”

And then Fareeha is pulling her into a kiss. It starts soft and warm, but like a kindling fire it grows, burning hotter and hotter. It is a hungry kiss, for they are both hungry for this. She sweeps her tongue against Fareeha’s lower lip and Fareeha’s lips part: Angela swallows her moan and makes a pleased sound. Fareeha, never one to back away from a challenge, shows Angela exactly how talented her tongue is. The kiss is searing in all its heat – and there’s heat coursing through Angela’s body, down to between her legs. She gasps in a breath, and gasps again when Fareeha’s teeth graze over the delicate skin of her throat. Then their lips meet again.

Her fingers are drifting through dark strands of hair, then down a muscled neck, across broad and strong shoulders. Fareeha backs her up against the door. Angela slides her hand under Fareeha’s shirt and allows her deft fingers to explore the defined muscles of her body, short fingernails grazing over tensing abdominal muscles. Fareeha moans and presses against Angela; presses one thigh between Angela’s legs and _up_.

Angela’s hips _buck_ and then instinctively grind down. Fareeha pulls back and looks down at her, body still pressed against Angela’s, thigh still firmly pushed between Angela’s legs.

“I want you,” Angela whispers.

Fareeha’s breathing hard. It looks like…it looks like she’s restraining herself.

Angela doesn’t want her to restrain herself, she realises.

“I know. I _know_ ; I want you too. Is this alright?”

“Get me on that bed and rip my clothes off.”

Fareeha laughs. It’s a low and rich sound that reaches to between Angela’s legs. “If anything, you’ll be the one doing the ripping.”

“ _Bed_ ,” Angela says breathlessly. Fareeha sweeps her off her feet and carries her to the bed, placing her down gently before she crawls on. Angela kisses her and nips at her lower lips, fingers already curling around the hem of Fareeha’s shirt and tugging. She sits back on her heels and Angela sits up with her, pulling the shirt over Fareeha’s head, then reaching around for the clasp of her bra.

Fareeha shifts and gently catches Angela’s hands. “Your shirt first, I think.”

“Take it off, then,” Angela challenges, but she’s smiling. Fareeha does, and the way she does it is a bit reverent.

She looks at Angela and says, “You are beautiful.”

“And to think I haven’t even taken off my bra yet…”

The rest of their clothing is quickly divested. Then they are both naked, at long last, and they look at each other, seeing the other naked for the first time, with bright and wondrous eyes. Fareeha reaches for her, then…

…and Angela catches her wrist, pulls her down onto the bed gently, and straddles her in one fluid motion.

“I thought—”

“Let me take care of you,” Angela purrs.

“I had plans,” Fareeha protests, beginning to sit up.

Angela grinds down, then, and says, “But so do I. Let me take care of you.”

Fareeha’s eyes are wide and very aroused. “Oh. _Please_.”

“Lay back.”

And Fareeha does. Angela sits up and lets her eyes take in the gorgeous woman below her, all rippling muscles and _power_ – frankly, it’s erotic to have such a powerful and strong woman laying beneath her, staring up with swollen lips and aroused eyes. She is utterly perfect.

Angela lowers herself till their chests press together. “You,” she murmurs into Fareeha’s ear, “are absolutely _perfect_.” Then she takes Fareeha’s earlobe between her teeth and tugs.

The groan she solicits is nothing short of wondrous. “ _Angela_.”

“Mm?” Angela’s lips wander down Fareeha’s neck, finding her pulse and pressing a kiss to the skin there. “Don’t worry. I’ll get there.”

Fareeha breathes in sharply.

“Eventually,” Angela adds, and nips at her collarbone. “You have such lovely collarbones. Have I told you?”

“No.” Fareeha grips her hips firmly, thumbs sweeping over Angela’s waist. “You are a tease.” There’s a roughness to her tones.

The things Angela would _do_ to hear her voice all rough from crying out in pleasure….

“So are _you_.” Angela moves down further. “I see you looking at me.” _Lovely pectoral muscles_. “Fluttering your eyelashes. Coy glances. Biting your lip.” She closes her lips around Fareeha’s right nipple, and Fareeha’s back _arches_. Angela’s right hand comes up to pay the other nipple attention, pinching and rolling it gently between her fingers. Fareeha’s hands tighten, and she murmurs something Angela does not quite catch. She glances up and sees Fareeha wetting her lips with her tongue.

She wonders how long she could continue like this, how sensitive Fareeha’s nipples _really_ are, how close she could bring her to climax with just that alone. But she wants more, and so she only spends a few minutes kissing and tugging her nipples, before shifting to lie between Fareeha’s legs and kissing her way down a wonderfully muscled abdomen, lips trailing over old and new scars. Her hands drift down to rest upon Fareeha’s thighs, and Fareeha’s hands come up to cradle Angela’s head. Her fingers rub at the doctor’s scalp gently, a most pleasant sensation. Softly, she brushes a strand of hair from Angela’s eyes.

Angela looks up at her, then: her chest is rising and falling rapidly, and her eyes are as dark as ever.

“Let me take care of you,” Angela whispers again, and reaches up with one hand to slide her fingers through Fareeha’s folds. Gathering the wetness on her fingers, she slides her thumb up and over the swollen bump of Fareeha’s clit.

The response is sharp and immediate. Fareeha’s hips buck and she throws her head back onto the pillow, moaning. Angela repeats the motion, and then slides two fingers inside. She moves them slowly while her thumb works in small circles over Fareeha’s clit. Again and again: she watches Fareeha’s muscles grow tauter and tauter, listens to the barely-restrained _need_ in Fareeha’s voice, dips to taste the skin of her abdomen, now covered in the lightest sheen of sweat.

Then she stops. Fareeha breathes in sharply and looks at her, curious and a bit annoyed.

“What are you–?”

Smiling, Angela withdraws her fingers from Fareeha, then pops them into her mouth, swirling her tongue around the digits. “Tasting you,” she says, before moving down even further and pressing her tongue to Fareeha’s folds.

“ _Oh_ ,” Fareeha whispers. Her hands are no longer in Angela’s hair, but instead are gripping the sheets tightly. “ _Angela_.”

And so Angela commits herself to learning Fareeha with her tongue. She teases at her folds and then presses it firmly against her clit, shifting so that she can work two fingers back inside Fareeha. Angela thrusts and curls and scissors her fingers, and she feels and hears Fareeha growing closer and closer to climax.

She curls her fingers again and Fareeha is climaxing, her muscles tightening, a sharp cry falling from her lips. Angela eases her through the orgasm, fingers moving slowly and gently, turning her head to press a kiss to the inside of Fareeha’s thigh. Then, when her muscles have become languid, she reaches down for Angela and pulls her up the bed.

“Thank you,” she whispers against Angela’s lips. “That was…incredible.” And then she kisses Angela, slowly and deeply, trailing her fingertips up Angela’s spine.

“There’s more where that came from,” Angela promises when Fareeha breaks the kiss to regain her breath.

A smirk. “Not for now,” Fareeha says, and flips them over so that she is on top. She flicks her hair out of her eyes and grins down at Angela. “I can wait. You can’t.”

“How much does it take to tire you out?” Angela asks curiously.

Fareeha winks. “I suppose you will found out soon enough, hmm? But what about _you_? How quickly do you come?” She sits up on her heels and runs her hands down Angela’s body. Her hands are delightful, as strong and calloused as they are. “The plans I have for you, Angela.”

“What plans?” Angela asks, though she finds out soon enough.

Pressing the length of her body against Angela’s, Fareeha kisses her till she is breathless and near dizzy. One elbow bears her weight, while the other hand wonders the length of Angela’s body – gently tugging and then soothing her nipples, sweeping down her side, up her abdomen. She pulls back and gazes into Angela’s eyes as her fingers move down between her legs, sliding through damp folds before curving inside. She gazes into Angela’s eyes as she curls her fingers, and she smiles when Angela gasps out. Then she thrusts, sure and steady, powerful yet restrained. At the end of each thrust she curls her fingers, and after a little searching she finds that most wondrous spot that makes Angela’s toes curl.

Angela feels her climax building inside of her. It is like being wound tighter and tighter as Fareeha’s long and clever fingers work, strong and steady. She draws in a ragged breath, moaning when Fareeha’s lips close around the flesh at the juncture of her muscle and shoulder.

“ _Fareeha_ ,” Angela cries out – surely, _soon_ , soon she will crest and climax – but it keeps building, and Fareeha’s fingers are still working inside of her.

At Angela’s cry she bites down and thrusts harder and _harder_. And then the heat and tension building inside Angela is reaching its peak and she is climaxing, coming free, coming undone, her heart racing and pleasure erupting throughout her body till her toes curl and she sees stars.

“Breathe,” Fareeha whispers, kissing Angela’s jaw. Her hand is still moving, but slowly.

Angela breathes in deeply. “Oh, _gosh_.”

“Good?”

“Mm.” Fareeha’s thumb presses into her clit. She moans softly. “Best I’ve had in a while.”

“Then I endeavour to give you many more.” Fareeha shifts so that she can look down into Angela’s eyes. “Can you come again?”

“In your hands, and so soon?” She smiles, still a little breathless. “I know I can.”

Fareeha’s fingers are gentler this time. Slower. She kisses Angela softly as she draws out the next climax, and holds Angela in her arms as the orgasm rolls through her. Then she pulls her fingers out slowly, rolls onto her back and gently pulls Angela on top, wrapping her arms around the doctor firmly.

“ _Mein Gott_ ,” Angela murmurs. The two of them are sweaty and sated – for now. “That was…”

“Incredible?”

“Wonderful. You are _perfect_.”

“So are you.” Fareeha laughs into her hair. “You know, when you started going down on me, I thought I was going to come from the sight of it alone. The way you looked up at me!”

“I could hardly help myself.” Angela kisses her neck, tastes salt and the remnants of Fareeha’s sex on her tongue. A pleasant taste. One she certainly enjoys.

“And to think I still have to repay that favour….”

“It was not a favour. It was my pleasure.” She feels Fareeha swallow sharply. Feels her thighs press together. “You like that thought, hmm?”

Fareeha groans. “You just came twice. Rest a while.” She strokes Angela’s back. “Get your breath back.”

Angela lays on top of her contentedly. “I will not need long.”

They stay like that for a while. It is nice – very nice – lying with their naked bodies pressed so close, sweat cooling on their skin, sheets all rumpled and messed from their lovemaking. Fareeha runs her fingers through Angela’s hair, smoothing out any tangles. Angela hums into her neck.

“Speaking of need,” Angela says eventually, “We will both have to shower again.” She shifts so she can see Fareeha’s face properly.

“Are you,” begins Fareeha, lips curving, “suggesting that we shower together?”

Angela grins at her. “Well?”

Fareeha looks at her and smiles. “Doctor Ziegler,” she declares, “you are a _wicked_ woman. And I think that is an excellent idea.”

She laughs at that and Fareeha laughs with her. 

What is blossoming between them - the connection, this thing they have not named yet - feels good. It feels comfortable, and it feels natural.

Angela thinks,  _it feels like home_.

She wonders if Fareeha feels the same. Then Fareeha wordlessly cups Angela's jaw in one hand and kisses her, so sweetly and softly that Angela's heart feels like it is soaring.


	3. III

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry this took so long! I've been working on a lot of stuff. Anyway, here you go - let me know what you think! <3  
> Edit: I now have a tumblr! I'm caesurae-writes.tumblr.com - feel free to send me messages on there if you want!

.

Three weeks pass. Life continues on. There are missions, and there are injuries, but everyone is alright in the end. Overwatch continues to operate in secret. Jack makes contact with a few old agents who want to return. They train and they study, and they make plans.

And Fareeha and Angela kiss in privacy. A small handful of people know – Jesse and Hana, and Angela does not doubt that Genji has realised – and she thinks that Jack suspects, though he has said nothing. She thinks she will tell him, soon. But for now, she and Fareeha meet behind closed doors and in shadowy corners, and it is really quite lovely.

They make a few slip ups. Angela eyes her appreciatively from across the gym, and Lena cackles and says, “Amari’s got a fine arse, right?” Angela makes some excuse about muscles and being a doctor, but Lena doesn’t believe it. She just thinks that Angela’s looking appreciatively. She _doesn’t_ realise that they’ve been sleeping together for three weeks now, which is a relief.

If Lena knows, everyone will know. Lena’s got a habit of just blurting things out. It’s an endearing trait, but Angela would rather tell Jack herself, than have Lena reveal it all.

There are sleepless nights, of course – nightmares and vivid memories keep them both awake, and on these nights they are drawn to each other. She sleeps better in Fareeha’s arms, and Fareeha sleeps soundly sprawled across Angela’s bed, with the warmth of Angela half-beneath her.

Being with Fareeha feels like…like home. It's easy and it's wonderful and it's natural.

And that, Angela thinks, is a precious thing.

.

Every day, after breakfast, there’s an informal meeting held in the hangar. There, Jack informs them of any new developments in the world.

The news that morning is all quite good. Hana and Lucio are to be commended for their hard work in the field, and their commitment to training back at Gibraltar. Everyone claps and whistles, and Angela squeezes Hana’s shoulder proudly. Lena engulfs Lucio in a fierce hug, shouting, “That’s my boy! Beer’s on me tonight!”

“You’ve improved beyond compare,” Angela tells Hana, “which is saying something, considering you were _already_ a force of nature on the battlefield when you joined us. You are becoming an incredible young agent.”

“Thanks, doc,” Hana replies, eyes suspiciously damp. “I wouldn’t have been able to do it without your support.”

Angela embraces her and Hana squeezes her tightly, laughing into her shoulder. Reinhardt pulls them both into a hug. “We are all family here,” he says gruffly. “Where is Fareeha?” Suddenly Fareeha is there, pulled into the embrace too.

She meets Angela’s eyes and grins, reaching over to ruffle Hana’s hair.

In German, Reinhardt says, “ _Yes, family: here I am, the grandfather, with my beautiful daughter and her wife, and their mischievous daughter_.” And he roars with laughter, while Angela gapes and fervently hopes that Hana and Fareeha haven’t suddenly learned to speak German.

“What’s he on about?” asks Hana, twisting her neck to stare up at Reinhardt.

“Motorcycles,” Angela replies faintly. Then, to Reinhardt, she says in German, “ _Remember who enforces the dietary plans around here_!”

“ _Oh, I will.”_ He releases them all, and pats Angela on the back. “ _We are going to have a talk, I think, and soon._ ” Smiling enigmatically at Fareeha, he moves away, just as Jack clears his throat.

“Whoever drank Aleksandra’s protein shakes: you are in trouble.” Lena ducks behind Lucio, now, looking suspiciously guilty. Aleksandra gives the others a sad, pitiful look. "She wants a public apology and an arm wrestling competition, which she states she will win." And now Zarya is grinning. Lena looks pale. Jack grimaces at his tablet. “There’s one more thing. The dog.”

The _dog_ – pup, really – is quite cheerful in Mei’s arms. And there is silence, a silence filled with a great deal of anticipation.

“The dog is staying,” Jack announces. There’s a ghost of a smile on his face. “I have sent most of you a guide on what _not_ to feed dogs. No fatty food. No alcohol. Nothing sugary. So read it. Mei says he will have a name by the end of the week.”

There is much rejoicing, at this: the pup has become quickly beloved, and has been fawned over endlessly by the other agents. Mei is congratulated by Jesse, who gravely addresses the pup before scratching its ears.

Then, Jack finishes off with, “I’m going to be taking a team to Watchpoint: Denali for a quick recon mission. Angela, Reinhardt, Jesse, Lena – you’re coming with me. We leave at 3pm today. Winston has command in my absence.”

“Yes sir,” Winston says while the others all glance at each other. He does not seem surprised by this, so Angela figures that Jack had told him about the plan earlier.

The fact that all of the agents going were agents of Overwatch _before_ the fall does not escape Angela. _What are you playing at, Jack?_ she wonders. _What’s at Denali, other than ruin and old memories?_

She trusts Jack, though, so she gives him a nod.  _Denali_. 

.

They are to leave in a few hours, so she manages to fit in her various appointments. Vaccinations for Hana, Lena, Torbjorn. A check-up for Lucio, who had sustained four broken ribs in training yesterday. An agility course accident. It happens, unfortunately.

He has been healed by nano-technology already, yet the checkups are necessary. 

“How are you feeling? Any pain while breathing? Sensation of tightness in the chest?”

“Oh, I feel good,” Lucio assures. “Enjoying the fact that I have a reason to avoid Aleksandra and the gym for a few days.”

“She is quite intense, no?”

“Oh, come on doc, I’ve seen you and Satya spar. Scary stuff.” He grins. “I’m all good?”

“You are. You can even dance on the kitchen tables, if you want – but don’t let Zarya see you.”

“I’ll keep my eyes out. Thanks for the check-up!” He pauses by the door. “I’ve got this track you should listen to. It’s cool stuff, a little bit of a modern take on classical music. Kind of French.”

“I trust your taste,” she tells him. Lucio can find a piece of music for almost anyone, and they’ll enjoy it. “Link me to it?”

“Sure thing! Hope Denali goes well.” He waves, and then is gone.

After that, Angela finishes up a few more tasks, before heading off to her room to pack.

Perhaps ten minutes later there are two knocks at the door. Angela guesses who it is, and her suspicions are confirmed when she opens the door to find Fareeha standing outside.

“Do you mind if I come in?” Fareeha’s tone is conversational, but the wink she gives Angela is terribly flirtatious.

Smiling, Angela steps aside and invites her in. “Not at all. I was going to come and find you, after I had finished, but it is good you are here now.” She closes the door. “We have more time to talk, that way.”

“Yes, I was just…mmph—” Angela cuts her off with a sudden kiss, standing on her tiptoes and sliding her arms around Fareeha’s neck. After a moment of surprise, Fareeha relaxes, and tilts her head to deepen the kiss, slipping her tongue into Angela’s mouth.

And her tongue! Angela could wax lyrical about how very talented her tongue is, the sensations it leaves in its wake, the fiery path it scorches across her skin. The sounds it draws from Angela – sounds she did not know she could even _make_ – are incredible, and evidently quite pleasing to Fareeha’s ears, given the way her hands grip Angela’s waist and the growl she makes in return.

Somehow, she tears her lips away from Fareeha’s – how, Angela is not sure – and says regretfully, “Clothes have to stay on.”

“I know.” Fareeha presses her forehead against Angela’s and takes a deep breath. “I would say sorry, but you started it.”

“I did, didn’t I?” She laughs breathlessly and runs both her thumbs along Fareeha’s jaw. “I’m going to miss you.”

“And I will miss you.” Fareeha’s hand is suddenly cupping Angela’s chin, tilting her head up so Fareeha can catch her lips, so soft and sweet that the doctor’s heart _aches._ Then she takes a step back. “Need help packing?”

“Mm, no, but you can keep me company.”

Fareeha sits on her bed. There’s something charming about the way she stretches out her long legs. Angela places a kit bag on her desk and searches through it, noting what she has and what she will need.

Denali is cold, and the watchpoint there is in ruin. She will need warm clothes – though her and Reinhardt are certainly the most acclimatised to cold out of those going – so she packs thermal leggings and undershirts, several pairs of thick socks, warm pants and a snowcoat. 

“Do you know how long you will be gone?”

“A week, I think. Are you pouting?” Angela teases, upon glancing over her shoulder and finding that Fareeha is indeed pouting.

Fareeha rolls her eyes. “No.”

“You look like you are.”

“I had plans for tonight, that was all.”

Angela bites her lip. She does not miss the way Fareeha’s eyes fixate on the movement. “Tell me?”

“The bottle of whiskey. You and I drinking some, sitting side by side. I would say some very charming things, you would be witty and delightful – which you always are, really – and I would lean over and kiss you; kiss the whiskey from your lips till we were both breathless.” Fareeha pauses. “And then, I was going to see how many times I could make you come beneath my tongue.”

Angela drops a pair of thermal leggings, heat suddenly coursing through her body and rising in her cheeks. “You – you _were_?”

“Yes.” A glimpse of white teeth. “You came twice, the first time we slept together, in quick succession: I have been wondering how many times you would come if I—”

“ _Mein Gott._ " She cannot hear any more of these _words_ from Fareeha's lips - not without wanting to tear off her clothes and leap onto the other woman. "You will be the death of me, Fareeha Amari.”

Standing up, Fareeha crosses the room in a few strides. Angela wonders if she will kiss her – but no, Fareeha crouches down and picks up the thermal leggings, folding them and placing them in the kit bag.

Smiling faintly – and really, a faint smile from Fareeha Amari has all the glory of the sun – she tells Angela, “I am trying to give you many pleasant things to think of when you are in Denali, cold and alone in your sleeping bag."

“Well, it is working.” Angela leans over and kisses Fareeha on the cheek. “I am going to miss you, you know.”

“I know.” And there’s no teasing to Fareeha’s tones, only a rare softness to her eyes. She reaches out and tucks a strand of blonde hair behind Angela’s ear. She seems to hesitate, but only for a moment. “I am going to miss you too. I like being with you, Angela: I like being at your side, I like watching you work. I take joy from being in your presence. And I…I care for you. That is actually why I came here. To tell you that.”

Angela’s heart does this funny little skip in her chest. _She cares for me_. It’s – a wondrous feeling, spreading through her chest. Like the soft light of dawn, all golden and warm. “I suppose me throwing myself at you was something of a distraction.”

“It was pleasant, but no distraction.” Fareeha’s tone becomes more serious. “You are no distraction to me, Angela Ziegler, and never will be.” Her eyes dip down for a moment, before she meets Angela’s gaze again. “Words are not always easy for me. And these ones are harder than most. Yet…I _want_ to tell you. I want you to know. This – what is between us – it makes me happy. It makes me so very happy. I feel like my heart is going to explode with joy when I kiss you. And honestly? I have never felt this way about anyone.”

Oh.

 _Oh_.

One of Angela’s earliest memories is watching the New Year’s Eve fireworks in Zurich. The sprays of colour across the night sky, the sound of fireworks being launched into the air. Brilliant colours – gold, red, blue – in the night, and all the thousands of twinkling stars above. She remembers her heart swelling with wonder and joy and adoration.

And this? This is the same sort of feeling.

“Fareeha.” Beautiful, strong, wonderful Fareeha. “Thank you for telling me that.” She wants to kiss her – kiss her senseless; kiss her slowly and softly; kiss her the way she reads poetry aloud – relishing in every movement of her lips. But she doesn’t. Not yet. Words must come first. She takes Fareeha’s hands in hers, and interlaces their fingers. And all the while, their eyes maintain contact. She thinks that she could not look away, even if she tried. “You make me dizzy with joy. You make me _happy_ – so very happy. I feel the same way about us, Fareeha.”

Fareeha’s eyes are bright. The smile blossoming on her lips is breathtaking. “You do?”

“With every fibre of my being,” Angela says. Her words are from her heart, honest and true. “I care for you, Fareeha Amari.” She squeezes her hands. “I care for you so very much, and I cherish every moment we spend together.”

And they kiss. Soft and sweet. This is the kiss that the poets write of: sunlight and petals and soft notes of music from across the garden. This is the kiss of two lovers. This is a kiss where two hearts beat in time, as one.

.

They speak of what is between them, after that. Angela finishes her packing and they talk.

“I do not wish to hide this,” Angela says, closing the zipper. “And - if this is to continue – then Jack must be told.”

“Then let us tell him,” says Fareeha, without hesitation. She slings Angela’s kit bag over her shoulder. “What about now?”

And now it is. The two of them walk towards Jack’s quarters, not far from Angela’s, at the end of the corridor. Jack, just finished his own packing, invites them into his office. "What do you need?"

And so they tell him. Jack listens attentively, and then he says, “I have to admit, I had wondered if there was something between you two.”

 _Of course you did_ , thinks Angela, wryly.

“You did, commander?” Fareeha raises an eyebrow, and seems surprised. Perhaps a touch nervous. Angela reaches over and squeezes her hand reassuringly.

“I did. It was easier to tell with Angela, of course. Simply because I’ve known her longer.” His lips twitch. To Angela, he remarks, “You’ve been floating around the base for weeks, now. And, there was…evidence.” He raises a hand, and points to his neck.

Fareeha’s cheeks darken. Angela _laughs_ , feeling herself flush a little, and says, “Ah. Yes.”

He is silent for a moment, evidently pondering what they have just told him. “But," he begins, and there's approval in his tones, "I see no problem with you two being involved. You know the rules: no special treatment on the battlefield or back at base.” He gives them both shrewd looks, and then nods. “I think it might be a good example to the others, too."

Angela cannot restrain the joy on her lips. “So you support us?” Fareeha's fingers curl around Angela's and press firmly, twice. Angela glances at her for a second, and sees the happiness and relief on her face.

She had known Jack would likely be lenient, given the history of relationships between Overwatch agents being commonly accepted. Yet he thinks that the two of them will be a good example to the others - and he approves, clearly.

He  _approves_. 

“Of course. In times like this,” he smiles a rare, soft smile, “we take joy where we can. I support you both. Hell, shout it through the base, if you want. Send Lena around with flyers. I can put an ad in the newsletter….”

“We don’t even _have_ a newsletter,” Angela points out.

“Then I’ll make one just for this occasion.”

And they laugh, the three of them. They both shake Jack’s hand, and Angela pats him on the shoulder while gripping his hand.

“Thank you,” she says. “For listening. And understanding.”

“You don’t need to thank me.” He squeezes her shoulder in turn. “Like I said: take joy where you can. You both deserve it.” Then, a touch regretfully, he adds, “It’s time to leave for Denali. Try not to mope around base all week, Fareeha.”

“I’ll try, sir.” She looks at Angela and smiles. “I’ll try.”

.

Angela flies to Watchpoint: Denali with the others.

Fareeha watches her go, smiling.


End file.
